U is for Ugly
by BarbaraLee
Summary: Their new role as paramedics brings Roy DeSoto and John Gage face to face with the ugly side of human nature. Mature themes, When I spotted the Alphabet Challenge this story called out its need to be told.
1. Chapter 1

**Prologue**

**Scene One**

"Man, the things people find to do to each other," Johnny commented incredulously.

"I just wish they'd do it at a reasonable hour," Roy walked around to the driver's side of the squad while Johnny stowed the gear. Roy loved being a paramedic, he'd worked for it, fought for it, but this was the kind of run that gave him pause. They'd been called out at two o'clock in the morning for a couple of drunks who couldn't agree on which required greater skill, pool or darts. They did agree to test both … on each other. Their hangovers would cause them more pain than their injuries, and they were now safely tucked into the back of Vince's car. The bartender and the waitress hadn't fared quite so well. Although a dart had punctured his thigh and a swinging pool cue had severely bruised her shoulder they'd refused the ambulance. "Squad 51 available."

The check-in acknowledged, Roy started the engine and pulled into traffic. They'd gone two blocks when the call came. People trapped, unknown injuries.

"That can't be right," Johnny stared at the radio as if expecting it to reply. He grabbed the microphone and requested a confirmation of the address as Roy swung the squad around and hit the lights and siren.

They pulled back up to the bar and again grabbed their gear. "What happened," Johnny asked Vince as he came over.

"Once all the noise from those two started dying down we could hear the other two." Was Vince smiling?

"What 'other two,'" Roy asked as he and Johnny reentered the bar.

"You'll see." He was trying not to laugh. "I don't think you need me for this one," said Vince. "I've got to run those two in," he nodded toward the back of his car. As he turned, Roy and Johnny heard him laughing heartily.

The bartender was helping the waitress on with her sweater. "Welcome back," he called jovially. "We're heading over to the hospital now. Manager's in back waiting for you." He grabbed his own jacket and hustled her out the door. Both were laughing.

Roy and Johnny exchanged glances as they made their way to the back of the bar. "Hello?" Johnny called.

"Over here," came the reply. The manager was a short, balding man with a round face that now wore a big grin. "In there," he pointed to the small store room as he hurried back to tend his bar.

Together the paramedics peered in, both wondering what could possibly be so funny about someone trapped or hurt.

A flimsy shelving unit had fallen over. Sticking out from beneath it were a pair – no, two pairs of bare feet. It was a young couple, arms and legs twisted in each other and the bent shelves. Johnny came around to make sure they could safely move the unit. He stopped short and turned his head. Roy looked over, puzzled, but Johnny was too busy scouring the room to notice. He finally spotted what he was looking for and lightly tossed something at the victims. Roy's look of confusion deepened but there was a job to do, satisfying his curiosity would have to wait.

The shelving unit was light but had caught on a piece of pipe near the ceiling. The couple had fallen in such a way that neither could get any leverage to move. Fortunately the shelves had been nearly empty, save a few half-empty boxes of paper goods. Roy and Johnny made short work of clearing the minimal debris and releasing the couple. It was then that Roy saw what the others had seen and what Johnny had thrown. Their feet weren't all that was bare. Johnny had tossed them their clothes, which they were pulling on even as they scrambled toward the door.

"We really should check you out," Roy told them. They each mumbled something about being fine and raced for the exit. Roy and Johnny managed to maintain their composure until they were back in the squad.

"The things people find to do to each other," said Johnny. They burst out laughing.


	2. Chapter 2

**ACT I**

**Scene One**

Roy killed the motor. He and Johnny sat as the laughter gave way to exhaustion. After a minute Roy pulled the key from the ignition and they exited the vehicle. They had just entered the dorm when

"Station 51, single vehicle accident with injuries."

Immediately alert, they were soon back on the road followed closely by Big Red and her crew.

Vince was there, waiting. There were no other police. None were necessary. They were in what had been an industrial neighborhood that, these days, was quiet during the day; it was deserted now. The front end of the once beautiful 1967 Plymouth Barracuda was now crushed against the wall of the long abandoned warehouse.

"Wish this was more like the last one," Vince said grimly when they had gotten their gear.

"What have we got," asked Cap.

"Drunk driver," the officer replied. "Just a kid, from the looks of her, but I can't get close. I tried a couple of times, she got hysterical."

_The things people find to do to themselves,_ Johnny thought as they went to the car. They were still a few yards away when the distinct odor of tequila reached them, strengthening with each step they took.

Vince was right. The driver looked barely eighteen. Her head was thrown back, her eyes were closed tight and she was murmuring.

"Ma'am," she stiffened at the sound of Johnny's voice. "We're with the fire department; we're here to help you." He opened the driver's door and knelt beside her. "Ma'am, where are you hurt?" Her legs were pinned under the folded dash and the steering wheel was pressing into her belly. "Ma'am, can you look at me," Johnny continued.

"No," she whispered tearfully. He threw a glance to the windshield. It was badly cracked but had held together, no flying glass. The side windows were both rolled down. "Please no." He reached across her to release her safety belt. She cringed and let out a cry. "Please don't."

"Can you tell me your name," Johnny asked.

"No," she repeated. "Please." Her eyes remained clenched, her breathing grew ragged.

Captain Hammer came over. There was no gas leaking, no sparks; Roy put up a hand to stop him. Cap repeated the signal to the rest of the crew, _sit tight_. Meanwhile, Roy made his way to the passenger side and slid in next to her. "It's OK," said Roy soothingly. "No one is going to hurt you, I promise. You've been in a car accident. We're paramedics. We need to make sure you're not hurt too badly." As he spoke he released the belt and gingerly passed it to Johnny, being careful not to touch her or let her feel what he'd done. "I'm going to take your hand now. I need your wrist to check your pulse, OK?" She bit her lip. "OK?"

She swallowed hard and nodded. She tensed visibly when he touched her but she allowed him to take her pulse. It was fast … too fast.

"Good," said Roy, still holding her wrist and monitoring her pulse. "Now my partner's going to take your blood pressure. Have you had your blood pressure taken before?" An almost imperceptible shake of her head. Johnny had already grabbed the cuff and was reaching for her arm. Again Roy raised his hand, palm flat. _Stop._ "Wait," Roy mouthed to him. To her, in his gentlest voice Roy said, "He needs to put a cuff around your arm. It'll go just above your elbow. You'll hear pumping, then it'll get tight, and then he's going to slide a stethoscope between the cuff and your arm." He looked directly at Johnny. "He'll go slow and easy. Understand?" A long moment passed before she nodded. "Easy does it," he said as much for Johnny as for their patient.

Johnny didn't understand. He knew what Roy wanted him to do, he just couldn't figure why he wanted to do it this way. She was drunk, how did Roy expect to reason with a drunk? _On the other hand, she's calmer now, and I guess slow is still faster than fighting with her first. _He took her wrist as softly as he could. He noted a bruise that went about three quarters of the way around it on the inside. As he slid the bp cuff into place he spotted another angry bruise on her inner arm at the bicep. It was large and ugly and nearly round. He was able to get Roy's attention and point it out. Roy just looked down. Johnny followed his gaze to a matching bruise on her right arm. _Strange._

Her pulse was rapid, her respirations high and her bp was low. They couldn't get a read on her pupillary response; she refused to open her eyes.

Johnny manned the biophone. He forgot all about slow and gentle as he sat by her and called in to Rampart with his full voice. She whimpered and drew closer to Roy.

"Take it easy," Roy hissed.

"Roy," Johnny snapped. She cried out and clamped down on Roy's hand with a vice grip.

Johnny had had enough. Before Roy could stop him he turned to their patient and said sternly, "Miss, you're injured, possibly badly. We need to check you out and that means we need to look at your eyes. Please open your eyes!"

Her eyes flew open. She was very still for a long moment, staring at Johnny. Then her eyes widened in fear and she tried to scramble away from him, panic setting in as she realized she was pinned. She screamed. It chilled the blood of every man there.

**Scene Two**

Roy had seen it before. One, like now, had led to a car accident. One victim had run away and fallen into a shallow ravine and one had locked herself in her apartment and frightened her family and friends when she'd ignored their calls. Once the actual rescues had been complete the care of these women had fallen to the nurses. Roy had watched, his heart in his throat. It used to be just police, ambulances if there were injuries. Now paramedics would be called on first, with or without additional accident or incident. For the first time since becoming a paramedic Roy wished there was a nurse along.

Johnny worked quietly. He had frozen when she'd looked at him. He'd never frozen on the job before, and it was only for a second, but he'd frozen. She was afraid of him. _Tell the truth. She was terrified._ He probably shouldn't have barked at her, but he was trying to help her, after all. _Roy knows something. He tried to tell you. What does he know? What did Roy see that you missed?_

She had fainted. It did make the job much easier. _Not cool, Gage,_ he reprimanded himself. Her respirations and pulse had shown slight improvement once she was unconscious. She had a couple of cracked ribs and a broken pelvis. They'd also found two more of those large, circular bruises on her thighs. They'd reported their findings and followed Rampart's instructions. All that was left now was the transport.

Roy was squatting next to her, monitoring her IV's and vitals, whispering with Vince. _What is Roy so angry about?_ Johnny took a step closer.

"I don't think she's drunk," Roy was saying.

Vince shook his head sadly. "I'm sorry, Roy, I am. You're probably right, but one doesn't change the other."

"It's not sympathy Vince. I _really_ don't think she's drunk."

"Come on, she reeks of alcohol."

"Yeah, I know. I worked on her. It's on her, but I was right next to her when she screamed. I didn't smell it on her breath. I think it's on her clothes." Vince looked doubtful. "You're going to follow us to the hospital anyway, right? If I'm wrong you can always arrest her later. It's not like she's going anywhere, and if I'm right …"

_Right about what? _ They heard the sirens that told them the ambulance was near. Roy stowed the last of the equipment and rose. "Hey, Johnny?"

"Yeah?"

"Grab my helmet, will you? I think I left it in the car."

Johnny trotted over to the now empty wreck. A quick glance revealed Roy's helmet in the back seat. When he couldn't quite get to it he kneeled in on his right knee to extend his reach. As he stood he happened to glance at the seat, at the large, nearly round indentation his knee had left. He dropped the helmet.

The ambulance had pulled up, she had been loaded, everyone was waiting on him. He didn't notice. As he stared, the print of his own knee changed color, no longer the black leather of the car seat, it was now an angry purple. The color of bruises. He was sick with sudden understanding. Johnny ran behind the car to throw up.


End file.
